


Ma'am

by hawkqirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, Breathplay, Creampie, Cynicism, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff, Power Play, Scratching, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, swears, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkqirl/pseuds/hawkqirl
Summary: Reader has been dating Steve Rogers for the past few months, but Steve learns her largest secret: she's an undercover spy for Hydra.





	1. Wherein the discovery is made

You eyed your watch, checking the time and finding that it was nearly six forty in the morning, meaning that Steve Rogers, also known as the one, the only, Captain America, would be wandering into the small, quaint and undiscovered cafe that he always visited after his morning run of fifteen miles.

You straightened your skirt as you stood up, grabbing hold of the stacks and piles of paper that you had set earlier on the table, and hefted them into your arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a built figure approach the cafe through the transparent glass.

His timing, of course, was impeccable.

You strategically kept your head low and walked out the door just as he walked in, successfully managing a full on collision and causing the numerous amounts of paper to go flying and soaring through the air, scattering all alongside the both of you.

“Crap,” you sighed as you immediately knelt down to pick up the papers on your own, not yet acknowledging the Star Spangled Man with a Plan who stood before you and was the technical cause of your collision.

“I’m sorry, ma'am,” he flew into action, stooping down to your level and helping you gather the scattered sheets. “Let me help you with that, er…”

Finally, you turned your attention to him and looked into his crystal blue eyes, batting your eyelashes in a subconsciously seductive manner. “Y/N,” you said aloud, “My name’s Y/N.”

–

You learned almost immediately that he called every woman he didn’t know well “ma'am”. It was always “ma'am” this and “ma'am” that.

“Excuse me, ma'am, could I help you with those groceries?”

“Pardon me, ma'am, I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Ma'am, do you need any help?”

“Ma'am.”

“Ma'am.”

“Ma'am.”

“Ma'am.”

It was always “ma'am” with him.

Always ma'am.

–  
Everyone had a weakness, they had told you. While it seemed like the largest pain in their ass, Captain Steve Rogers, had no apparent weakness, they decided that all of that was to change.

You were to be that weakness of his. You were to get close to him. Have him trust you. Have him fall deeply, hopelessly, tragically in love with you; all the while you would be gathering intel on him that no one in Hydra could ever possibly find out. You were to string him along like a puppy, do whatever it took to get him to have faith in you.

Needless to say, it had been easy. After your initial meeting at the cafe, within four months, the two of you were dating, and within a year and a half, you knew every single little thing about him: sleeping habits, eating habits, diet, favorite brand of tooth paste, most hated vegetable–everything, down to how many moles and freckles there were that were dotted along every inch of his skin. You knew him inside and out, just like they had wanted you to.

At first, they were skeptical, to say the least. They didn’t think it’d work. They thought that you would actually fall in love with him, and that you’d forget all about your mission–no, your duty to Hydra. 

Not once, though, did you waver. Not once did you give in to the possibility of loving him as he loved you. Not once did your mind try to trick you so that you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore.

Not once.

You were set to “run away” from him soon, to leave him and this life behind. He wasn’t supposed to find out. He wasn’t supposed to come home early that day. He wasn’t supposed to find you removing your fake glasses and wearing an all black, kevlar padded suit with Hydra’s red symbol placed over the space of your heart while standing in the middle of his living room.

He wasn’t supposed to see any of it.

But sure enough, there he was, standing right in front of you, a dark glint in his sky colored eyes.

“They were right,” was all he said, quietly seething behind his semi-composed facade.

“ ‘They’?” you asked innocently, “What do you mean, babe?”

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N,” Steve said, his fists clenching in his hands. “If that’s even your real name.”

You looked at him, and immediately began to chuckle darkly in a voice that he didn’t recognize to be your own. “Great _job_ , Boy Scout,” you applauded him slowly, clapping your hands together. “I didn’t think you’d find out, but it seems like you deserve more credit than what I give you.”

“Who are you?” he asked as you walked in circles around him, daring to place light touches onto his clothing. 

“Isn’t it _kind_ of obvious?” you asked, pointing to the pin that was stuck over your heart. 

“A spy for Hydra, I get that,” Steve said, his voice hard yet his eyes slightly hurt. “How _long_?”

You laughed again. He still just didn’t get it, did he? “The entire time,” you said. “From the moment we met.” The startled look across his face made you grin, reveling in the fact of his own blind stupidity. “Oh, you didn’t notice? That’s cute, really. You see, I was assigned to make myself become your weakness.” You stood upright, doing a small salute, “Welcome the soldier,” you returned to walking in circles around him, and then you continued, “No one else knew. All those other Hydra scum bags you fought–they all thought that I was the traitor! Like _I_ gave up on the real mission at hand. Like _I_ lost sight of what was most important!

“They couldn’t trust anyone else with this mission; they knew that only I could do it! _I_ was the best of all of them! They knew that I would remain objective, that I’d claw my way into your heart if need be! And guess what, Steve?” You threw your head back in laughter, “It worked. Despite all of the mushy confessions, or the stupid dates, or the vanilla and mediocre as hell sex–it worked!”

Suddenly, he sprang into action, pinning you by the throat to the nearest wall. “Shut the hell up.”

“Does it make you mad, Stevie?” you chuckled darkly, “To know that everything about your love life was a lie? To know that an agent of Hydra stole your fucking virginity and _ran_ with it? To know that I made you my bitch?”

“Shut. Up,” he hissed, looking at you with what could only be coined as being ‘bedroom eyes’. Your lips upturned into a smile as you thrust your hips forward, grinding down against his hips.

“Ohhh,” you snickered, “Guess who’s hard?” You snuck your hand down to his crotch and palmed him through his pants roughly, earning a hiss out of him. “You’re turned on even despite the fact that I belong to the one organization you hate with every ounce of your very being?” You grinned, bringing your free hand up to the side of his cheek and running your fingers along the skin there. “Well, needless to say, Steve, despite it all…” You used your nails to scratch down the side of his face, your nails so sharp that they end up partly breaking his skin. Stepping into his body, you leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I always did love your cock.”

His blue eyes looked into your y/e/c ones, and in that very instant, it seemed like everything around you shattered. In what couldn’t’ve been less than a few simple moments, his mouth was devouring yours as you threw your arms around him, pulling him in closer to your body. He lifted you up to wrap your legs around his torso; which caused your crotch to rub up against his own straining member, earning a very satisfying light groan from his lips.

He set to work on peeling you from your kevlar suit, only accomplishing the task when you managed to strip him of his own clothes in less than two minutes. 

Swollen lips returned to yours and he lifted you back against the wall, holding you around him as he made movement to go to the bedroom. His actions startled you, and you bit down harshly onto his bottom lip to stop him.

“I don’t want none of that vanilla crap,” you muttered, “I’m tired of always fucking with you on a fucking bed.” You nipped at his neck and sucked on the skin, leaving marks everywhere and all across his body, so that he would remember who exactly did this to him. “Been having only one source of sex, and all I’ve gotten for the past year and a half is boring–” Another nip, “average–” Suck. “compliant–” Bite. “vanilla–” Lick. “sex!” Your glare reached through the very depths of his soul as you said, “You’re so fucking boring, always following the fucking rules! That pissed me the hell off. You never–”

And that was when you felt the insertion of two of his thick fingers, sliding directly into your wet and aroused heat, bringing them deep inside from the get-go.

“Shit, you fucking _douche!_ ” you yelped as he curled his fingers inside of you and began with a brutal pace that felt like you would fall apart in his hands. He fucked you with his two fingers while he held you against the wall, leaning in closely to your ear.

“They told me,” Steve said, “They fucking _warned_ me about you being something you’re not, Y/N, and I defended you. I stood up for you, and you played me like a violin.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “There’s…a lesson for next time.” 

Your voice started giving out in between pants and then he started to go faster and fuck, where the hell did he learn this? You most definitely hadn’t taught him anything like that, and–

“ _Fuck!_ ” you screamed as he added another finger, stretching and filling you in such a sinful yet fucking fantastic way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head and hit up against the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It felt so _glorious_ , and even though you damn well knew that you wouldn’t even think of actually saying it, you were mentally begging him to not stop. His fingers thrust in and out of you ruthlessly and without delay, and before you knew it, the fire in your belly suddenly spread everywhere and into every inch of your skin.

“Who’s who’s bitch now?” Steve said as you let out a cry and jolted forward, cumming onto his fingers with a sharp cry of “shit!”. He chuckled and slowed down, slipping his fingers from you and putting them in front of your face. “Lick it off.”

You did as he ordered without complaint, licking your juices from his fingers and staring directly up into his eyes, sucking onto his fingers as though it were a certain other body part of his.

When you finished, you released his three fingers with a loud _pop!_ , and immediately reached down to his erect member. You pumped at it from it’s base all the way up to the angry red tip, rubbing him tightly with a strong and firm grip.

“I’m no one’s bitch, Boy Scout,” you told him as you gave him another tight stroke, squeezing on the hard and veiny length. “I’m the fucking _queen_. I’m like royalty.”

“I-In _Hydra_?” he stuttered, his voice heavy with lust and arousal. “You wish.”

Dissatisfied with his reply, you stopped your movements and scraped your nails down his length, earning a sharp hiss from him. “Shut the hell up,” you told him. “I was given this mission, so I knew it was all fake. But you–you thought it was real. You loved me.”

He didn’t say anything–what was there to say to something like that?–but he did pin your arms back, your hands and wrists stuck to the wall. 

All he did for a good few moments was stare at you, and you stared right back at him. 

He was a waste. A holier-than-thou, awkward do-gooder with a great body and a lame personality. So not your type. Every second you were forced to spend with him made you want to claw your eyes out. The sex, unbelievably, was the best part, even if it was boring and even if it was the same every single time. 

It was undeniably the only thing you’d miss about him.

After the few moments the two of you shared just staring at each other, he pushed you back up against the wall and wrapped your legs around his torso, opening yourself up for him to drive into you with one swift thrust.

“Fucki–” you attempted to growl, but it came out more as a groan. “You little _shit_.”

Your arms went back to his back, intending to retaliate for his dirty (no pun intended) move, and so you did. While he fucked up into your achingly wet pussy, you left claw marks all along his back; your nails raking up and down and piercing as much of his flesh as you possibly could, until you saw flecks of blood droplets on and inside of your nails. You ignored his warning bites to your neck to get you to stop, but you didn’t listen. You just kept going, and going. With every thrust of his hips into your core, you left a scratch mark up against his back.

“Fucking piece of–” you began as he yanked down onto your hair tightly, forcing your head up to face the ceiling, “Shit!”

It didn’t help that he was pulling on your hair, pounding your pussy at a breakneck pace, and pressing his fingers against your clit so harshly that you were certain you’d come undone in what would be just a few moments.

“F-fucking…” your voice began to give out as he began to direct his cockhead to hitting up against your g-spot with each and every thrust of those sinful hips. “Shit ass…Boy Scout…” you moaned as he furiously rubbed your clit, wanting to make sure that you came, and you came hard.

Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, you had more endurance than what he have you credit for.

You let out a cocky snicker, and said, “How does it feel? To be America’s sweetheart and fucking Hydra’s best agent?” He didn’t say anything, but he did look at you with those damn hooded eyes that were filled with anger.

That only made you laugh all the more.

“To be fucking their queen?” you asked, “To be enamored with a woman from Hydra who wanted and expected absolutely nothing from you?”

Steve muttered something under his breath and then his right hand flew to your neck, squeezing on it in a way that you were certain would bruise over later. 

For now, though, he kept his fingers wrapped around your neck, causing your mouth to fall open as you tried to suck in air, only to find that you couldn’t. 

He plunged deeply into your pussy, ravaging your body and ruining you in a way that you hadn’t thought he ever could. He had always been the missionary position kind of guy; always sickeningly sweet, always considerate, always passionate. He had always fucked you with an even, slow yet firm rhythm. Now, though? He was fucking you like some kind of a sex god. His fingers tweaked your nipples, his tongue laved over the buds and kissed all around your mounds. His cock was thick and deeply buried inside of you, hitting all the right spots to make you cry out over and over and over, causing you to make sounds that you’d never made with him before. His fingers flicked your clit in a way that made you weak in his arms like silly putty.

And then–and _then_ –before you knew it, before you could even believe your very eyes about what was happening, you ended up orgasming, cumming and clamping down onto his cock. You tried to let out a scream, only to find that you couldn’t. Dots made of white splattered across your vision. Euphoria washed over every inch of you, and just as Steve came a few seconds later after you, he released the grip that he had had on your throat, clearing your airways. You sucked in deep breaths of air, your chest heaving as he pulled out of you and let you down from your place on the wall to the floor, your knees buckling like a young lamb.

Although you didn’t notice, his cum dripped down from your pussy to you leg, and then down to the floor. “Boy Scout,” you breathed, your voice shaking, “Were you cheatin’ on me?”

He looked at you, pulling away from your body as you gathered your tossed outfit from the floor, already preparing to take your leave.

“Would it matter if I did?” he asked, causing you to stop in your tracks despite knowing that you wouldn’t’ve cared if he had.

“No,” you shook your head. “I just know that I never taught you about any of that.”

Steve shrugged, his face unreadable. 

“I don’t intendedly hurt the people I love, ma'am,” he said, and for some reason or other, you felt the smallest twinge in your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment below and you might receive the steamy part two sooner. ;)


	2. Wherein the truth is discovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mistake might have been made.

You hear him before you see him.

Your head is throbbing, your throat is dry, and your eyes are blurry, but you know that voice from anywhere. You know that touch from anywhere.

His hands oh so gingerly and delicately bring you down from the place that Hydra had kept you hanging from the ceiling, bound by your wrists that were kept above your head. 

“Isn’t that…?” a voice you immediately recognized to belong to Natasha Romanoff questioned.

“Yes,” was all he had said, and your mind blanked out, be it from exhaust, from the morphine that had been pumped into your veins earlier, or maybe from something else entirely.

–

“Where am I?” you asked when you came to in a room you knew was Steve’s. You knew the feel of the sheets, the layout of the room, even the smell. 

It reeked of self-righteousness.

Steve was by your side before you could even begin to get hysterical with anger, and he brought a damp rag to your forehead, which soothed your unknowingly hot skin. “You’re in the tower,” was all he said as he stood up again, leaving your side to fiddle with something at his desk.

You reached up, tossing the wettened rag from your forehead to the floor. You sat upright, despite having the slightest bit of difficulty as you did so. “Take me back,” you demanded of him, your voice sounding hoarse and scratchy and not at all how you usually did.

“There’s no point,” Steve said, still turned away from you. 

He wasn’t getting it, was he? “Take me back,” you repeated in a dark tone of voice, “I mean it.”

Now he turned back around to look at you. “What would be the point?” he asked you, staring you down with those damned infuriating blue eyes. “There’s nothing there for you. You were abandoned in an empty Hydra facility, strung up to the ceiling and left for dead. And you want to go back?”

What was he talking about? You weren’t abandoned – you weren’t strung up and left for dead, like he said.

Were you?

You shook your head, “That’s impossible.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Steve asked, and you felt anger ignite inside of you.

“Because they need me,” you said, “They need me, and the intel I have on you, and I just got there. I wasn’t even able to tell them–”

“Y/N,” Steve said, confusion behind his blinking cerulean orbs, “That was two months ago.”

That suddenly gave you a pause. “What?” you asked, breathlessly, as though all of the oxygen had left your lungs. “No.” 

“Y/N, you left two months ago,” Steve reiterated, but you just shook your head.

“No, no,” you mumbled, “That’s not true. I just got to Hydra, and they told me that they were going to look through my memories to get the intel faster, and–”

“That was over two months ago, Y/N!” Steve’s voice raised at you, making you flinch at the sudden loudness. “You ripped my heart out and told me that you never loved me two months ago. Everything that happened since then? I don’t know.”

“No,” you said this time, softer; weaker. “No, that can’t be true.”

“Y/N,” he said gentler, now, at seeing how defeated you were. “What…what happened?”

He sat down on the bed next to you and you looked at him, your brows knit together in confusion. “I don’t…” you shook your head, “I don’t know.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and you tried to recount what you last remembered. 

Hydra had prepped you for the procedure to view your memories of your time undercover, and…

That was it. That was all you remembered. How long ago had that been, then? Two months ago?

How could that be, when you literally remembered Hydra agents congratulating you only moments before?

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Steve said, putting a hand on your knee comfortingly, “You’re safe, now.”

You looked at the hand on your knee and jerked it away, looking up at him with pure venom in your eyes. “What is this? Why was I brought here when I betrayed you? Is it some kind of a hero thing? Where you’re on that high horse of yours and just can’t seem to get off it?”

“Y/N-”

“No!” you said, anger flooding through your veins, “Do you think you’re better than me? Because I was left behind and you came and saved the day like you always do?”

You didn’t know why you were saying the things that you were, but they just wouldn’t stop coming out. You kept on talking, kept on saying hurtful, hurtful things to him.

And you still didn’t stop, even when he stopped replying.

You hated yourself for it, you suddenly realized. You hated always hurting him. He hadn’t asked for this. He hadn’t asked for this kind of pain that you continued to shove onto him and his life. He hadn’t asked to fall deeply in love with you. He hadn’t asked to save you when you were left for dead, and even though you couldn’t believe that they had – left you for dead, that is – you couldn’t help but see where he was coming from.

“Why won’t you say anything?” You demanded of him, punching his shoulder. “Why won’t you answer me?”

“What am I supposed to say?” He asked you, suddenly. “Am I supposed to apologize for saving the life of the woman I –”

And there, he went and done it. If you hadn’t felt bad before, now you really felt awful. 

It hurt you to know that you hurt another person on such a deep level. It didn’t make much sense, considering your track record when it came to other people, but here you were, nonetheless, caring. You actually cared. You actually didn’t want to hurt him anymore. You wanted to get away from him. You didn’t deserve that love he had for you, and you knew it. You just didn’t.

“Don’t,” you warned him. 

“Y/N-”

“Just.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes out of either annoyance or fatigue, you weren’t sure anymore. “Don’t.”

And so Steve sat by your side, motionless, not saying anything to you or looking in your direction. 

You closed your eyes, rubbing at your temples. “I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. “I can’t stay here.”

“Where would you go?” he finally spoke up as you stood onto your own two shaky feet.

You didn’t say anything, you just looked at him with a look that told him to not worry about it – to not worry about you. 

“You’re not looking for them,” Steve said slowly, “Are you?” You didn’t answer him, only making your way towards the door on wobbly legs. “Y/N!” He said once he realized that you ha planned on doing just that. “Why are you doing this? Why would you go back to them when they used you and left you?”

“Because,” you snapped, turning back to face him. “Hydra’s all I have! They may’ve given up on me; they may’ve thought the I was compromised when I spent all that time with you…But I haven’t given up on them.”

“What you’re asking for is a death sentence,” Steve said. “You’re lucky that they didn’t kill you on the spot!”

“So be it,” you said, gritting your teeth. “So much better to die in a place where people accept you than in a place where people hate you.”

He knew that that was directed at him and the rest of the team and their thoughts on you. For a fleeting, small moment, you could see the hurt that flickered across his face, only to be replaced by the unfathomable glint he had in his eyes from the beginning of the conversation to that very moment.

“I’m not needed here,” you said, “I’m not wanted here. Not by anyone. At least at Hydra, someone cared.”

“That’s not true,” he spoke up.

“Excuse me?” you asked him, and he shrugged.

“You said that no one wants you here,” he said, “That you’re not needed. You know that that isn’t true.”

“Don’t, Steve–”

“No, Y/N, you’re always so damn stubborn!” he raised his voice, “You always have been, even if you try to deny it and say that it was all fake.”

“You don’t know me, Boy Scout,” you said with annoyance in your voice. 

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” he asked, “I do? I know you so fucking well that you don’t even recognize how much I do.” He crossed the floor over to where you stood by the door, and grabbed your hands into his. “You told me that what we had for a year and a half wasn’t real, but you know what I think? I think that you were just scared. That you actually did feel something for me, but you knew that you shouldn’t have. So what did you do? You buried it, deep down, telling yourself that it was in your best interests that you keep your distance from me.” He was inches away from you, now, his long lashes beating down as he blinked and catching the light as they moved upward. “How’d that work out for you?”

And then, it all suddenly came back to you. Hydra had done the procedure on you. They saw your memories of him; all of them, including how you felt about him.

And they didn’t like what they had seen.

You were compromised in their eyes, a liability. They kept you around to view your memories again every so often, but other than that? You were seen as a girl fallen from grace. You had lost your touch. You lost that conviction you had.

And so, when things started to go south, they had left you behind, telling you that you would be a hindrance to their escape. You’d be the scapegoat, the distraction while they got away. You easily complied, telling yourself that you would do whatever it took for Hydra – that no matter what they asked of you, you would do it.

And that was how you got here.

You shook your head, “I’m not…” Your eyes began to fill with water at your sudden realization. “I’m not… I’m wrong for you, Steve, I’m all wrong.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said. “Two months passes and I’m still not over you? I don’t think the message is getting through.”

How could he love you, someone as broken as you were? How could he care for someone as wretched and wicked as you were; someone who played at being in love with someone else only to actually develop feelings for that someone, no matter how dark and twisted it was? How could he need you and want you as he said he did?

It wasn’t believable to you, it just wasn’t.

“You’re wrong,” you said, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself in to by associating yourself with me.”

“Don’t I, though?” he asked you softly. 

“You don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “I’ll still love you, no matter what you think you are. Even if you think you don’t deserve it. Even if you don’t see it.”

“I’m a member of-”

“Hydra.” He said, “Yeah. I get it. I got it the first time. It’s just, the way I see it, now? You’re not confined to them, anymore, Y/N. You can start again. Make a new life for yourself, if you want it. All you have to do is try.”

You didn’t know what to think, hell, you didn’t even know what to say. What you did know, though, was that you wanted some type of clarity in your life, and that only ever seemed to happen when you were with him.

You placed your hand on his chest and said softly, “I want this.” You looked up at him, and stared directly into his eyes, “I want you.”

For the first time in your life, you were being needy. For as long as you could remember, you’d pushed people away and kept them far away from your deepest emotions. You thought you were protecting yourself – don’t open up to people, and they won’t be able to hurt you. Only now did you see, though, that instead of letting other people hurt you, you were hurting yourself more than anyone else ever could. You were destroying yourself from the inside out. You wanted to get better, and, you realized, when you were with him, you were better. He brought out the best version of you, even if it was the one that had made you cringe internally at remembering it. That was the you that forgot about Hydra, about the mission, about everything else. That was the you that loved Steven Grant Rogers, the you that read to school children at the local library, the you that taught Steve how to dance, the you that he had bared his soul to so many times before.

That was the you that you wanted to be; the you that had been dreaming and was thrust back into reality that day two months ago when you’d gotten the signal that your mission was over, and that you were to return back to Hydra without any second thoughts. The you that was in reality had to leave behind a life that you thought could only be achieved in dreams, a life where, for the first time ever, you were loved. You had to rip off that band aid with the only person to ever love you, to hurt them and make them forget all about you.

But, apparently, as fate would have it, you just couldn’t do it.

“I need you,” you told him, your voice wavering and cracking and shaking, and, god, you were so close to tears that you hated yourself even more for it.

Steve held you closely for a moment, pressing you against his chest in a gentle embrace, but no, you didn’t want that. You wanted him – all of him.

You lifted your head up to meet his lips, pressing your dry and chapped lips to his soft and gentle ones. He felt familiar, you noticed as you relaxed into the kiss. He felt safe. He felt like what heaven probably felt like.

The both of you kissed each other for what seemed like forever, pressing into one another as each layer of your clothing began to shed, one at a time, until you stood naked in front of him, kissing down along his neck and down his torso.

“I…” Steve seemed to hesitate from saying what he wanted to say, before finally just spitting it out. “I missed you.”

Could you blame him? No, no, you could not.

“I missed feeling like this,” you said softly, in a quiet voice that you didn’t recognize to be at all like your own. 

“Like what?” Steve asked as he held your face in his hands, peering into your y/e/c eyes.

“Loved,” was all you said before you kissed his cheek, dropping down to your knees to find his half-hardened member. You stroked it in your hand, pumping it as you watched precum begin to gather and bead at the tip of his head as he progressively got more and more hard.

When he had reached his full length, you parted your lips, swiping away the droplets of precum with your tongue before you began to take him into your mouth, swallowing his thick cock inch by inch.

“Shit,” he hissed above you, running a hand through your hair before grabbing a fistful of it, tugging on your locks gently as you sucked him off.

He tasted as he always did, a particular flavor that you once dubbed to have tasted “like freedom” (which had garnered a laugh out of him, at the time). He was whispering small praises to you, telling you that you were doing so well, or that he loved you, or urging you to keep doing what you were doing. 

At some point, he began to thrust into your mouth as gently as he could without forcing your gag reflex, and you figured that he was close to his own tipping point.

You withdrew your mouth from his engorged and swollen shaft, a string of saliva from your lips still connected to it as you parted, only to disappear into nothing as you pulled away.

He lifted you up from your place on the floor back to his lips, kissing you softly as he moved his lips against yours in a way that screamed of how much he was completely and totally enamored with you. You felt slightly bad at the idea that you weren’t showing him how you felt through the kiss as he was, but you knew that it didn’t matter either way to him a he grabbed hold of your ass, squeezing the flesh he found there as massaging it with his large hands.

You were the first one to fall back onto the sheets, spreading your legs open as he looked at you quizzically before climbing over your welcoming body.

“I thought you didn’t like vanilla sex?” he asked you, clearly remembering what you had told him the last time the two of you had been intimate with one another. “That it was boring?”

You kissed along his jawline, and simply said, “Sometimes, vanilla sex is the thing that I need most at the moment, Steve.”

He looked you over and kissed you as he drove into your center, making love to you as though it were the both of your first times.

His lips kissed all along your skin, nipping at your flesh as your mouth fell open at how he fit and filled you so perfectly, almost like you were made just for him. 

A finger found it’s way in between the two of you, rubbing circles onto your clit as he tried to get you to cum before him.

“Have you…” you panted as you rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts, “Have you…had anyone else after me?”

For a quick, fleeting moment, you were terrified to hear his answer to your question. What if there was some other woman? Someone that had helped him try to forget all about you? Should you care? Probably not. Should you be jealous? No. But the thought of someone else enjoying him like you currently were was gut wrenching.

“No,” he shook his head as he applied more pressure to your clit, making you cry out just a tad bit more. “Have you?”

You shook your head in response, and told him, “Was always yours, I think.”

And you could’ve sworn that your admittance of affection for him, even though you didn’t explicitly say that you loved him, made his hips rock into you even harder, until you were succumbing to the build up of increased pleasure as fell over into a sea of euphoria and bliss, brought on by the hands of your one and only Boy Scout.

Steve ended up spilling into you moments later, your walls milking him of every last drop of his love until he was spent inside of your pussy.

He slid out of you, only to look down at your body, taking in your current state. “What’s…what’s the matter?” he asked as he hovered over you, looking over your face for any signs of distress.

You shook your head slowly, wrapping your arms around his body. “Please stay.”

Although you didn’t see his head nod up and down with approval, you did hear him. 

“Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's one more part to go! please leave comments below <3


	3. Wherein it all comes to a close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's in store for Steve and you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the end! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this final chapter. Comments are always always always encouraged, so if you enjoyed it, please please please let me know in the comments below! And without further ado, let's get into it.

Sleep had always been something constant. It was the one place you could escape your reality of a life in an organization that you subconsciously loved and hated with every fiber of your being. It was the one place where you could be someone else, be anyone else. You could do anything, be anyone. The sky wasn’t the limit; neither was the confines of this universe. In dreams, you could create as many realities in your mind as you’d like. You were able to visit them at all times.

The tough part was facing reality, the very reason why we dream in the first place. We dream to rid ourselves from the confines of the life we are currently living, and the time whilst we sleep is the only time that we can really start all over, be someone else.

However. Just a touch, just a small part of the dark can tarnish that dream, ruining it and turning it into something that you never wanted it to be. Something that it was never meant to be.

Those tarnished dreams were called nightmares, and, since you’d returned to Steve’s side and left Hydra for good nearly a year ago, you’ve been plagued with them every single time you shut your eyes.

You saw a slew of things: the people you’ve killed, the ones you tortured, the individuals you hurt, inside and out. Some of them gathered together to kill you, or at least in your dreams, and they, most often than not, succeeded in their endeavors.

After your death in these dreams, you always ended up awake, shivering or sometimes crying out at nothing in particular. You always felt alert after these nightmares, as though an enemy was in the immediate vicinity and was prepared to take you out. Knowing that it was either you or them, you would make a reach to the nightstand to grab your gun, a knife, anything –

But you would only come in contact with air.

“Y/N,” Steve would mumble tiredly, sitting upright alongside you. “It’s okay.”

He would always gently touch your shoulder, first, to show you that he meant no harm to you. You would initially flinch, but then relax into his touch as he would move to hold your back, and then your arm. 

“I’m here,” he would continue as he would place the softest of all kisses onto your shoulder. “You’re safe.”

Slowly, slowly, you would level out your breathing and sink down into his embrace, knowing that if he was telling you this, then it must be true.

He would hold you, wrap you up inside of his warmth. His chin would rest atop your head as he drew circles onto your arms, and you would slowly get yourself back to sleep.

–

Before, when you were with Steve while undercover, the Avengers liked you, and they trusted you. It was only when Wanda came around that they started to doubt you. Wanda saw into your mind, and, although you were great at keeping thoughts about your mission at bay, she managed to see them somehow. That one thing sparked the rest of the teams’ speculation that you were something you weren’t showing them; that you had an ulterior motive.

Shortly after you’d been kicked out of Hydra, no one was willing to talk to you other than Steve and Bucky. Bucky understood, more or less, what you’d been through, and he knew what hell you had been put through in Hydra. You were grateful for the interaction, but you felt as though you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve Bucky trying to make friends with you, and you sure as hell didn’t deserve Steve, who had been as patient as ever with you, now that you needed him so very much.

And now, a year later? They still hadn’t come around to completely trust you, although they did put forth an effort. They all talked with you if you were around, but they never sought you out. They would invite you out to parties and clubs and whatnot, but they never stayed with you. 

You knew that they didn’t mean to be hostile towards you, that it just sort of happened that way because you proved in the past that you weren’t to be trusted, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You hated feeling needy, like this. You hated needing someone else’s validation to prove that you were, for the first time in your life, good. You hated feeling like you had to be prim and proper and walk in a straight line so as to not arouse any suspicion from anyone. 

You hated everything, everyone – but you didn’t want to. You wanted to trust people, you wanted people to trust you.

But it just didn’t seem to work out that way.

“They all hate me,” you said one day to Steve.

“No, they don’t,” he responded, shaking his head. 

“Yes, they do,” you said. “Or if they don’t, they should. I’m…evil. The agent of Hydra. I’m…” 

“You’re not.”

“Then, at the very least, I’m nothing,” you told him. “At least before, I used to be something. I used to have an allegiance somewhere. And now…”

“Y/N,” he held your hands in his, kissing them softly as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not nothing. You’ve always been something, at least to me.”

“A girl that’s more trouble than she’s worth?” you questioned with a weak laugh as Steve gave you that sad smile he was so good at pulling off.

He kissed your forehead, and said, “The love of my life.”

–

Every time you and Steve went out on a date, it was always somewhere secluded. Gone were the days of visiting clubs, or going to some fancy five star restaurant, or out to the movies.

Now, the dates consisted of going to the park underneath the moonlight, dining at a hole-in-the-wall mom and pop restaurant, or staying in and watching movies at home.

Before Hydra disappeared from your life, you loved going to social places. Now, though? Large groups of people just made you anxious. You felt like there was no one that you could really trust, that there was always going to be someone lurking, waiting, behind the corner, prepared to jump out at you.

You didn’t think your heart could handle it.

Steve didn’t mind, though. In fact, he was thrilled. He had told you that going to places where it was just the two of you made things that much more intimate; where it made things between the both of you that much more personal.

He never complained, not once. Not ever. 

Secretly, inside, you felt that you were holding him back from something, but you never exactly knew what. You figured that it was better to just let it be. If he realized that he actually did deserve someone better than you, like you knew he did, then you’d let it be. Let it go. Let him go.

But he didn’t seem to get that idea in his head. He never did. He was always patient with you, always kind, always gentle, always loving. The things that you told him that had irritated you before, were suddenly the things that made you love him all the more now.

It was strange, how you could hate someone just because you were taught that that was what you were supposed to do. It was even stranger to learn to love that person despite it all.

Steven Grant Rogers was many things. He was Captain America, the soldier placed out of time. He was born on July 4, 1918, during the First World War. He was a member of the Greatest Generation, the ones who lived through and survived the Second World War. 

Factually speaking, the two of you were never supposed to be together. He should’ve been dead by now, but he wasn’t. You probably should’ve gotten killed by now, but you hadn’t.

The both of you were meant for one another, at least in some strange, roundabout way.

On this one particular day, he took you up to the roof of the Tower, like the both of you so often did, and you watched the sky together.

Due to the smog of the heavily industrialized air, you couldn’t ever see any stars in the sky, but that didn’t stop either of you from enjoying the deep blue hue of the night sky above you. 

You sat together, with your head resting on his shoulder, and your hands entwined together. Everything was quiet, and everything was still. It was a comfortable silence, though, and the both of you just enjoyed one another’s company. You breathed in each other’s puffs of breath that was visible to you due to the chilly night air, and you felt calm. No worries, no stress.

“Never thought I’d feel like this,” you said, actually smiling for a change.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Calm,” you said, “Happy.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You’re happy with me?”

You laughed, “Shut up, Boy Scout.”

A silence lulled over the both of you again before he shifted, saying, “I got you something.”

“What?” you questioned as he rummaged for it in his pocket.

“I was planning on giving it to you before all of…” he said. “The stuff the happened last year, but…”

“What is it?” you asked and then he pulled the something out of his pocket, and then presented it to you.

The jewels on it glinted and sparkled in the pale moonlight, and your breath caught in your throat as you immediately recognized what it was.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “Will you marry me?”

Your first immediate thought was: _‘What is he doing??? Does he not know what type of person I am???’_

But then you realized: he _does_. He knows exactly the type of person you are. He accepted you even when he was hurt by you, he loved you even when you told him that you hadn’t loved him. He was there for you when you thought yourself a nobody, a nothing. He held you when you couldn’t get a grip on reality. He talked you down from jumping off the ledge, once literally and several times emotionally. He fought for you when you didn’t think you were worth it. He treasured you like you were worth all of the riches in the world. 

He damn well knew what sort of a person you were. He knew that you were damaged, that you were broken, that you disturbed his sleep on a daily basis because you were so terrified all of the time. He knew all of that, and still, he stayed. He could’ve left at any moment, he could’ve given up, thrown in the towel, left you behind like you knew you should’ve been.

But he didn’t.

He’d always told you that he was in it for the long haul. Before, you didn’t think that such a thing existed; that you’d never reach the point of making it even slightly to the long haul.

And yet, here you were. Here you both were, with him asking for your hand in marriage. 

Who else would you spend your life with? Who else would you choose to live with that burden that you believed was yourself? Who else was going to love you, and hold onto you, and cherish you, and care for you like you needed – like you deserved?

Who had been doing that all of this time already?

You knew the answer to that, already, just like you knew the answer to Steve’s question. The answer was always him. The answer would always be him. 

And so you nodded slowly, tears of happiness piercing your eyes as you did so.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and you nodded again, this time with more vigor.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out as the tears slipped past your eyelids and down your cheeks. The grin on your face was unmistakeable, as was the sound of happiness in your voice as you repeated your affirmation. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a comment below if you enjoyed it!


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